Let Me Go
by sunnylikesunshine90
Summary: Caroline had left him years ago with a three worded letter, asking for his forgiveness and leaving everything they had in the rearview. Tommy was left with a vague sense of confusion and an emptiness that seemed to be untouchable. Years later, they are both discovering that the past rarely stays there. Will she leave again, or will her funeral be the next he attends? ((Tommy/OC))
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Let Me Go

**Summary: ** He had convinced her to leave once for her protection – would he be able to do so again, or would her funeral be the next he attended? Tommy/OC

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Crossing Lines' or any song lyrics that may or may not be used in this story.

**A/N: **I will be the first person to admit in this situation that my OC comes as a bit of a self-insert. However, I will do my damndest to keep her from being too much of a Mary Sue. Remember to live by the motto: If you read it, feed it. Reviews definitely get the creative process going. Yes, I know this first chapter is short; I wasn't sure how to get it started after such a long writing hiatus.

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"_My heart feels not so much in my chest as in my hands. I am carrying it along swiftly, as though I have become the messenger for what is going on inside me."_

Her fingers were posed over the keys, aching – _begging _for the words she so longed for to flow through her. The need to put her thoughts onto the paper was strong, but everything she typed just wasn't getting the point across properly. A client had paid a decent amount of money for this story, and as the deadline grew closer and closer, she worried that she would be unable to deliver a finished product. The break from work was good; _'One can only be expected to tolerate so many tragic stories and endless case files before they reach a breaking point'_, she mused to herself. A creak from the worn floorboards caught her attention, every hair standing up in preparation for the unknown lurking in the darkness. Turning to see what caused the noise, she spotted a figure darting from one shadow to another. Sliding her phone off of the counter, Caroline dialed in 1-1-2 but didn't yet dare to hit send. Her palms were slick from the nerves, but the soothing voice of an old friend echoed through her mind, "Panic isn't necessarily a bad thing – but it can, and will, get ye killed if ye don' take control of it". Thumb hovering over the 'call' button, she slowly inched her way towards the door, hoping that luck was on her side and that she could get out of the door without raising the intruder's suspicions. Senses so heightened by the anxiety, she was left hoping that the creaks she was hearing fell upon deaf ears as she inched closer and closer to freedom. A hand reached towards the door knob, the sense of security so close now that she could practically feel the winter air on her cheeks. It came without warning – a hand wrapped around her ponytail, jerking her backwards to the ground. Acting on raw animal instinct, Caroline began to struggle, screaming and swinging at any nearby object. It was moments like this that made her wish she had paid as much attention in the hand-to-hand combat training as she did during the firearms training her grandfather had recommended upon her arrival in the Hague. One blow landed on her jaw - one blow, followed by two, three, four. She began to lose count as the punches landed all over her body, just praying that it ended with her still having a pulse. A sudden silence took over, Caroline cautiously opening her eyes as an all-too-familiar Irish brogue filled the room.

"I told ye what would happen. I told ye and I told Tommy tha' no good would come of ye hiding from the family. Ye were warned – why didn't ye listen? Maybe ye will understand now"

His hand picked up the phone from where it had slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, before punching in a number and dropping it by her head.

"Give 'im a hug from me, love. Tell 'im we'll be seein' 'im again, soon."

His footsteps had barely cleared the front door when a voice answered from her phone.

"ICC – McConnel speakin'…."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Let Me Go  
**Summary: ** Caroline had left him years ago with a three worded letter, asking for his forgiveness and leaving everything they had in the rearview. Tommy was left with a vague sense of confusion and an emptiness that seemed to be untouchable. Years later, they are both discovering that the past rarely stays there. Will she leave again, or will her funeral be the next he attends? ((Tommy/OC))  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Crossing Lines' or any song lyrics that may or may not be used in this story.  
**A/N: **Remember to live by the motto: If you read it, feed it. Reviews definitely get the creative process going. Quote at the beginning is by Marcus Aurelius.

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"_The best revenge is to be unlike him who caused the injury."_

It had been a slow day – hell, who was he kidding? It had been a slow week. There were any number of cases for their team to sift through but none fell on the cross boarders' radar, at least not any that the courts would authorize. Tommy's hand scrubbed over his face, the stubble from the lack of shaving scratching at his skin. How could that be - He had just shaved this morning, hadn't he? Or was that yesterday? He had been spending so much time at the office, desperate to escape the confines of his now empty apartment, that time seemed to be moving at a pace all its own. Being there reminded him too much of _her_; There were times when he could swear that he still smelled her perfume in the air, heard her gentle hum bouncing off of the walls, wrapping him in soothing memories of days past. The shrill tone of the phone rang through the air, shaking him from his despondent reverie.

"ICC – McConnel speakin'…"

He had thought it was a wrong number at first, until he heard it – until he heard _her_.

"….Tommy….?"

The word was choked off at the end, as if she were biting back a painful moan. Part of him rejoiced at her voice, but another part of him, the part that would send him up the steps two at a time to figure out what was wrong, was put on high alert as if he were fighting the fight or flight response.

"Caroline, what's goin' on, love?"  
"Oh, Tommy…."

Her words were muffled as if she had turned her head from the speaker, or possibly thrown her hand over her face to muffle the softened sobs he heard on her side of the line. Instinctively, he wanted to wrap her up like he once would have, fight off whatever demons she had coming at her – and that thought terrified him. It had been so long, and the pull towards her was still as strong as it ever had been. Tommy snapped his fingers and waved his arms, trying to wave a confused Sebastian over. On a torn post-it note, he scribbled that he needed a trace on the phone. The tech officer nodded before getting to work, albeit a bit confused by the urgency in his coworker's body language.

"We'll be there as soon as we can. I need ye ta just hang on for me, until we get there. Can ye do tha' for me, love?"

No reply came from the other end of the line. Sebastian flashed a thumbs up, indicating that he had locked the location of the call, before murmuring something about telling Louis and that they would all rendezvous at her apartment.

It was the longest drive that Tommy could remember from recent memory. He knew the route like the back of his hand – even if he was a bit surprised that she had returned to her old apartment without so much as a 'hello' phone call to let him know she was home. A nod of the head towards Carl and Louis who had arrived at almost the same time, he moved towards the front door, taking note of the way it looked to have been kicked in. This was supposed to have been a safe neighborhood – this _shouldn't_ have happened here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure dart around the corner, raising suspicions but most of his concerned was focused on what kind of mess he was walking in to.

"Caroline…..Caroline, it's Tommy. Where are ye, love?"

The reply came not as a spoken word, but more of a painful groan. Stepping through the front door, he quickly checked to make sure the coast was clear before heading in the direction the noise had came from. A table had been overturned, knocking the lamp that had rested on it to the floor, shattering it into many tiny pieces.

"Caro, darlin', you're makin' me worry a bit…"

He stepped forward, nearly falling as he stumbled over what he thought was just a bump in the rug. Looking down, he followed the 'bump' further along, struggling to swallow back the bile that threatened to spill forth at what he found. From where he was standing, Tommy could tell that she had obviously endured one hell of a beating, the bruises already forming on her face beneath the layer of fresh blood smeared across it. Her arms and legs moved, trying to pull herself into a sitting position but her ribs screaming their protest at the action.

"Tommy, get her to the hospital. I'll have Sebastian meet me here with the gear – one of us will be along with you shortly."

He nodded at Louis, more out of instinct than out of understanding. Stepping forward, he muttered reassuring sounds to Caroline, trying to ignore the way she howled in pain as he lifted her up. Over and over again, he heard himself telling her that it was alright, that she was okay, that it was all going to be okay – eventually, he wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure her or reassure himself.

"It's all goin' ta be alright now, Caro. It's alright. I'm here now…."


End file.
